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demytasse · 4 years

Note

What about Shinra’s love for Celty dying down as he got older (he’s still just fixated on Celty as before, just not in a romantic light) but it’s too late and she’s fallen in love for him. He’s starting to develop feelings for Izaya too so it’s starting to develop conflict in him and Izaya’s been in love with him since middle school so. Tl;dr: Maximum angsty Shincelty and Maximum fluff Izashin?

This response is long overdue as I was inspired to write something for it. As I write far in length it’s just shy of completion. However...I’d like to offer a preview as consolation. Context? Use your imagination, either way, it’s something Izashin and I’m sure that’s enough to create the right kind of angst. Ahaha.

...

Yet his elation was short-lived. Shinra felt his joy dissolve while his smile dragged down; he dipped his chin to let his glasses slip lower than they could aid his vision—lessened how clear he saw Izaya. All this in shame.

“Ah. I see.” Izaya wasn’t fazed.And even from how low Shinra had fallen he could still read his friend well above him.

Izaya was steel—decided to further blur himself for Shinra by removing his glasses, to remedy that strong inability to clearly face what he couldn’t.

“Your guilt of betraying her means nothing to me, I don’t have the need to be sympathetic towards someone inhuman,” Izaya shrugged and set stolen frames on the table, “so I have no remorse for this.”

Shinra wasn't surprised when lips pressed his own, nor was he shocked that he himself didn't reciprocate, but was thrown off by his own integrity a second later.

Though Izaya lacked it, he did have remorse for his disgusting deed against Celty.

It didn't stop him—didn't stop them, but that deed stabbed repercussion that he'd later reflect on...

For now, it was easy to give in. To shrug care away, to bubble up and let his lips upturn with a hum and a tickle. It was all too easy to relish and enjoy how Izaya shared his sentiment—and as always they were a mirror image of each other as if they were both in love with themselves. Narcissus as their role model—they ripped a page from his guide as they strengthened their release of long obsession.

It worried Shinra how he didn’t mind after some time of it hurting.

Even as emotional wounds were covered they both bled into each other.

And Shinra wasn't sure how to fix that, to heal what he ruptured—to blood let poisoned passion which burst from his veins and simultaneously broke his promise to the one he long professed.

That worry carried on after the ecstasy wore. Shinra spiralled.

Be it his well of advice had dried, his tears still trickled, and though they weren't a pool upon Izaya's palm they were still wet. Without so much of a hush, Shinra cast his heavy heart aside for the weight to burden another which was a feather for his willing victim—for Izaya.

Shinra removed his heart to neglect his own love, to save another, and sever what had just been given. His chest emptied of feelings numbed his consternation and boosted his confidence. He could appear carefree as he once did. To execute what he knew he couldn’t without fooling himself.

———

Obviously, there’s more to the beginning and more to the end, but for now...deal with the hurt as I feel it far worse, I assure you.

#durarara #izashin #shinzaya #kishitani shinra #orihara izaya #shinra kishitani #izaya orihara #drrr #durarara!!#drrr!!#anon ask response #fanfiction #demytasse fanfiction #shincelty #though you won't really know it in this part

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demytasse · 4 years

Text

[Shinzaya] Blindsight —Prologue

(Dullahan Izaya AU) A slice of life fic that starts at the point where Shinra and Izaya first meet and continues through the years. It’s rather wabisabi-esque, and really, it’s an outlet for my over-abundant fuwafuwa, dokidoki feelings for these two...and an excuse for me to gush over them...yet again. ( ´͈ ᵕ `͈) Inspired from a ‘what it...’ ask that @vanitasmisora sent.

—

Izaya was aware of how unique he was.

If he couldn't gather that from centuries of experience then he was far unworthy of those years. Even if he were given leeway for his lost memories it’d still be a travesty of the high intellect he believed himself to have; because he had such a distinct weight of isolation without a discernible reason for it, which if he had one takeaway from that feeling it would be that he lacked comrades.

Izaya knew his rationale hadn’t fooled him. If it had then he wouldn’t be in his current place—laid out and tied down, upon an operating table that was likely the only one to ever hold one of his kind: a dullahan of Celtic myth. Indeed, if there were another like himself then there wouldn’t be such a fuss over his presence.

There wouldn’t be doctoral associates looming over his bare, vulnerable body.

Nor would there be murmured interest among them.

And most certainly there wouldn’t be an excitable kid boosted on the table edge to get a better view of a headless being; whose smile broke the boundary of his surgical mask with wonderment up to his eyes, his voiceless audible and better viewed than anything.

"Wow…"

Out of those in the room, Izaya had an inkling that this child was the oddest one of the bunch—perhaps even more amongst people in the outside world.

Which once again Izaya could relate, if not in the past at least in the present.

It was with his dismal self-awareness that the dullahan was immediately enamoured of his table-mate who remained ignorant of the hustle around him. Izaya and this boy; likely the sore-thumbs in every crowd they could find themselves in.

—

"Time isn’t patient, Shinra. Especially with this particular patient."

From Izaya's vantage was an older man frigid in his smock that often presented himself with pep to counterbalance his off-putting vibe; he watched as he threw a glance to his carbon copy.

"Any son of mine wouldn’t procrastinate under these circumstances. He would cut with his scalpel rather than corners."

For all intents and purposes, the son he unfairly chastised was too green for the laboratory in the first place, though Izaya knew the organization which hosted these experiments hardly cared.

Though that made the situation worse.

"A-ah! R-right."

It was obvious that this kid wasn’t ready.

Perhaps it wasn’t due to his nerves, not fully, as inexperience seemed to only mildly affect him, but that wasn’t quite it.

No—in actuality it looked like he just wanted more time to gape. He was so young that a living corpse was something to revel like he’d already been and continued to.

It was clear that Izaya wasn’t just some experiment.

And maybe his father’s expert advice was correct, that time is of the essence or whatever idiomatic babble he’d used earlier. Still, it was harsh to sever innocence from his son, it being important to let a kid be a kid. That ripe curiosity was something to appreciate.

And Izaya did. Unexpectedly.

The kid nervously patted himself down, looking for a tool he seemed to have lost.

His father as he shook his head in disapproval. “I’m going to overlook your shameful disregard of proper sanitary practices this time...it’s not that it matters given your patient.”

A scalpel was offered and suddenly excitement took over his frantic nerves. Shinra snatched it—like he did his unique opportunity to dissect a cryptid; a chance most wouldn’t even think to dream of.

Once he did, his attention snapped back to Izaya with a giddy expression, like his emotions spoke for him.

‘Look, look! We get to play with one another now!’

It was pure, innocent human fascination. As it would seem, Izaya shared fascination of his own, and if anything could dull the excruciating pain of his conscious-mind dissection it would be this miracle anaesthesia as not only traditional methods were proven ineffective, but this intrigue…

...it was far stronger on its own.

Izaya’s own curiosity could dissuade the pain. In awe, he could observe the sloppy method of his prosector—Shinra.

To use his name would give proper respect to whom he regarded a send from some god he may have known before his memories were stripped.

Shinra’s excitement made him quiver, the knife loose in his fingers almost dropped. Under his breath, he ran through steps, notes that he may have written out and studied until the paper was more like a napkin.

“...use the drawn mark as a guide…

“...place the tip at the top…

“...adjust the angle of the blade…”

And then he paused—Izaya was left antsy for the incision.

"Dad...I’m not sure if I'm doing it right." Shinra tested the correct pressure as he shook more.

"Trial and error. Figure it out as you go along, my boy. It’s not like he feels pain... at least not like any human I know." He chuckled.

Given who Shingen was, the humans he knew were probably more than the handful present, perhaps an entire surgical department’s worth and possibly more than the members exclusive to Nebula.

Izaya didn’t know the breadth of his connections, but he did know that the man probably didn’t know any of them.

Sadly, his son was among that lot.

“Okay…”

Things picked up as Shinra caught his bearings. He lost some of his disruptive nerves, but never fully; he’d held back a fraction like he needed permission—rather—a reminder that what he was performing was a dissection akin to a dead animal so what he was doing wasn’t ethical abuse.

Which ethics, did he even have any?

If the boy was raised in another household then maybe he’d be instilled with a rational sense of right or wrong.

Given his circumstances, if a medical commentator interrupted to ask for his morals his response would be confusion, a cocked head, and an immediate return to his slice and dice, his palpation of useless organs.

Aside from morals, Izaya was reassured that it didn’t matter. Between squelches of intestines and kidneys, the squash of the liver and stomach, the mini surgeon would check in with his patient. Not to take note of his reactions as data points, but to actually check in with him. As if he began to connect subtle body movements to certain kinds of pain, pinpoint the times when he relaxed and what prompted them, astutely notice Izaya’s own fixation, thusly resonated with the reverb of his silent pain.

The boy offered his sympathy. Ethics and morals—even if they were held they wouldn’t hold up against Shinra’s conscience, untampered and untainted.

He was mature in his own way, adultlike when he shouldn’t have been and had more regard of life than everyone in the lab put together and that was a travesty of the supposedly intellectual human race.

But due to that innocent compassion, Izaya lost all sense of harsh reality as Shinra took care of him in a way that differed from a dissection.

Izaya was being examined bit-by-bloodless-bit, being accounted for internal pieces and their proper placement, yet only focused on Shinra. Later on, he’d discover that he saw the kid as ‘adorable’ while at the moment he hadn’t the term.

Shinra nodded with a final glance, ‘don’t worry, I’m almost done.’

He moved on—right side of the chest cavity to the left—stopped at an organ beneath his fingertips and slipped them under to remove it. None of his other organs had been handled delicately, in fact, none of them had been removed.

Thus the importance was heavy.

Shinra took Izaya’s heart from his beatless chest into a cradle of his hands—he almost bowed in respect of its beauty.

"...dad, what's his name…?"

Izaya was aware of how unique Shinra was.

"Shinra! Just concentrate."

Inhuman or not, the dullahan would’ve been heartless not recognise Shinra’s unrivalled passion. Even with his heart absent from his chest, it was obvious.

Apart from drone adults, Shinra was an interesting specimen himself. He who gave Izaya hope that he wouldn't experience his rebooted lifetime from the reflection of dead-eyed, veteran surgeons; wisened men and women long disenchanted by their craft.

"What's his name," Shinra demanded.

"Where did this insubordination suddenly come from?”

Though Shinra kept to the scrutiny of his trophy organ.

“Simply blasphemous.” Shingen blotted sweat with his sleeve, sighed. “It's... Isaiah…?”

Overhead light reflected off his goggles while he pretended to search his memories until he hazarded a glance down at his son.

He exuded pride, his obstructed smile endearing. “Ah, right, I believe it’s...Izaya.”

As Shinra was given a name he perked up—to which Shingen nudged him to proceed after he noticed the returned vigour.

“Now replace his heart before the incision closes."

Shinra fell into an obsession of Izaya’s entire being, heart and all. With a proven myth and supernatural existence; a specimen that appeared human yet uniquely dazzled.

An aberration, a head above the rest with one less above its neck. A dullahan, but far more a beauty to cherish.

Though the rest of Shinra remained a mystery to Izaya; at that particular place and time, all that was uncovered was fascination. The boy’s brain could’ve been splayed like Izaya on the table—his psyche could have been revealed for all to see and yet the details would still be undefined.

All but one thing wouldn’t be a puzzle.

Shinra, with a heart at the level of his own, would make damn sure of what he paid explicit mind to for all his years...

"Izaya…"

At that the two were ensnared. Shinra and Izaya were beholden of each other’s perception of love; taken on a ride through various versions of the concept in tow of an unreliable source of emotional intelligence.

"...it's nice to meet you."

All in a moment they saw the world eye to eye, if only by blindsight.

——

AN: Did I mention? I get a little romantically morbid...>w>; I absolutely adore lil Shinra, so I put extra care into writing him. This is the wordiest part of the fic, the rest of the chapters will be shorter, I just wanted to set up the story first. ♡

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demytasse · 4 years

Text

[Shinzaya] Past Affection

—

The afternoons which bordered Summer were just as much a nuisance as they were a spectacle.

On one hand, they were the creators of colourful settings—beautiful, vibrant hues that blended from one stage to another; and the sun, a keen mage, slowed the passage of time until it was difficult to determine the current hour. Moments were easily lost, now with an unfamiliar schema that needed to be followed. That was the unfortunate other hand.

To which lost moments were already too many for students who’d been locked away in stuffy classrooms prior to the bell. Because all things considered the school grounds weren’t the place students wanted to remain past academic droll and extracurricular electives—sports teams and clubs. Yet inevitably time would get away from them; at least in return they created lifelong memories.

One day—in exact two before Summer—there was a particular club that fell victim to that of an extended school day.

The club was its own undefinable thing; a sort of study hall but also not. A science club by name, but a ruse. That and it was comprised only of a peculiar pair who had decided to rehash middle school upon a whim—late in the game, mid-career.

Hardly needed was a biology lab they once took advantage of, so a sterile box was ditched for an unused classroom that lacked decorations and student accommodations.

Beside its wide window were the founders, Izaya and Shinra, who had positioned themselves across from one another and occupied two turned desks united at their cutoff. Under the table their ankles did much the same—rested near each other, suspended in open space, their legs crossed in mirror.

Though one was a bob, a percussion that Shinra played against Izaya’s leg without his awareness; hardly nervous, rather a content tic—an old habit that resurfaced, years unpracticed thus a drumming disaster instead of something consistent and precise.

Regardless, he continued on with his unconscious backbeat for the seasonal cicadas and conditioned air flow—just as well accosted Izaya with low key affection.

Struck, Izaya was separated from his studies, hit with memories he wasn’t prepared to remember; scenes from his early teens, details he had tossed aside for less important ones. Though he was innately familiar with the beat, it was easy to move on.

That is until Shinra started to hum a swooning melody that matched the calm afternoon; that was when Izaya completely lost concentration.

He stuttered words within his notes, failed to comprehend excerpts already read in his textbook. It was far too difficult to focus with a track sweetly and tenderly sung in reverb; the only song Shinra ever hummed.

With that calling it was a struggle not to smile.

Though maybe he had, despite his wishes—given the glance he shared with Shinra for a second before his clubmate went back into space and beyond.

Further a distraction was the song itself. Izaya never had a name for it—nor did he have an artist or lyrics, just a general genre. Truly it never bothered him before, but lost in the moment it did, like he wanted to steal an mp3 from the internet in order to listen to it on repeat, unsure of if a moment like this would continue on in the future.

That aside it was pure curiousity.

A mystery he wanted his friend to reveal as a detective Izaya hired under the table with a nudge to halt the beat.

"So, I believe it's due time that you fill me in on what song you've been humming."

Shinra stopped. "Was I humming?"

"You weren't aware of that?"

"Well, I did have a song stuck in my head..." he looked to the ceiling, finger at his chin.

Izaya knew Shinra’s obliviousness was straight up crap.

"Perhaps you’ve had the same song in your head going on four years, then. Not like I doubt the possibility, with your proclivity to obsess over solo things."

"Oh geez, did you become an esper without me knowing? I mean, I would expect your desire to pry into the inner workings of other people’s minds, but never mine."

Shinra remarked slyly which ruffled Izaya.

He already had a hard enough time asking an oddball question out of the blue. Rather, it was odd for him to ask a personal question of a person he knew personally. Mind you, fairly exact.

"No." Dead-eyed, he continued. "Like I said, you hummed out that incessant ear-worm...and have been for so long that it’s permanently attached to my eardrums."

"Right,” Shinra nodded, “and just now you’ve begun to wonder what the song was."

“I’m sure if you roll back the script you’ll find your answer.”

“Well if you insist, should we take it from the top—” Izaya kicked Shinra, who laughed when his knee jerked in reaction.

“Spare me, Shinra.”

“Haha, alright! Alright! I’ll relent.” His laughter died as blind thought replaced his bespeckled vision.

Surprisingly the name wasn’t at the tip of Shinra’s tongue, unlike the wit he usually taunted. With a slack frown, he reviewed memories played in reverse.

All the while Izaya studied Shinra; heavy head in palm, pen long ditched, opposite hand a paperweight.

"Hmm...you know…” Shinra relaxed his confusion when the answer clicked.

Izaya hummed for him to continue.

"It wasn’t ever a song I intentionally picked. As cheesy as it might sound, the diddy automatically played whenever we were alone."

"Hu. I didn’t expect that… What is it, then? The song."

"I don’t know, Izaya. It probably shares the tune of a preexisting song."

"In other words… You made it up."

"I guess so. Is that so bad?"

Shinra looked without a care, his head nudged in favour of the window, enough to watch the sunset as it painted drifting clouds.

"Isn't that just like you..."

There was a definite pause—long enough for Izaya to put his pen to paper, but not enough for his paper to accept written word.

"Though it's funny, isn't it? That I never thought twice about it... That's rather not like me.”

Shinra spoke indolently, “but I realised something while thinking over it.”

Izaya let him continue.

“To be honest, it just reminded me of you," he stirred clouds with his finger, “much like the sunsets often do."

The confession was blunt, but in a good way—in response it widened Izaya's eyes, and all of a sudden the low sunset was blown into full saturation. Not in the sky, but a kaleidoscope swirl upon Shinra's cheeks.

The answer held more weight than he expected. More heart, more sentiment, more romance… It lulled simple honesty, acted as proof that they had become fully comfortable with one another. Finally, an overdue rain-check—fulfilled in the middle of golden hour on that random day.

Izaya remained entranced by his brightened view of Shinra, just as his object of attraction was lost in his skygaze.

"...ah…"

Shinra chuckled. “That's all you can respond with?" Clearly, Izaya knew how he really wanted to respond, but he struggled with how to do it; how to redirect that wistful stare upon him.

Even though he was handed the perfect opportunity it was difficult to craft something appropriate for the lackadaisical mood. To pull Shinra closer—more than a friendly distance, shorter than their default comfort zone.

Pathetically, the only thing he could muster was an edge forward with his fingers in lead; but beyond a few inches he froze, contemplated if he could see the simple plan through.

He couldn't.

His desire felt like it would ruin the moment—he lied to his cowardice. Which in return his confidence reassured him that sometimes a moment was better kept beautiful, uninterrupted.

Instead Izaya decided to reciprocate the warm caress of his ankle that Shinra reinitiated, in hopes that it wouldn’t sacrifice their intimacy upon contact.

Shinra twitched, but barely acknowledged it. He simply tapped the tabletop to invite Izaya to connect with him, at the very least by hand.

Covered in shadow Izaya’s smile probably went in vain, though it certainly spoke through his response; a sigh that mocked the blow of air conditioning.

"Mmm…” Izaya nodded.

“...that’s all."

—

AN: This is the cheesiest sht. This was originally an idea that was part of my fic Hold Me Tight (Or Don’t) but it didn’t quite fit after things progressed. I loved it too much to let it go to waste. Err...that’s why the setting about them rehashing their middle school biology club days is...is similar. Eheheh...

#shinzaya #izashin #kishitani shinra #orihara izaya #shinra kishitani #izaya orihara #durarara #durarara!!#shinra x izaya #izaya x shinra #drrr #drrr!!#durarara fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #demytasse fanfiction #demytasse fanfics #demytasse

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demytasse · 4 years

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[Izaya & Shizuo] The Definition of Love and Hate

Gen-fic (i.e. not shizaya). Words Count: 590

—

Izaya and Shizuo donned a kind of romance that was neither beautiful nor synchronous. Awe inspiring and destructive; in vain. It was passion that gave flavour to poison and negativity that widespread tragedy.

Them—extreme poles better kept apart, while intrinsic to the balance of their unfair strengths and even worse faults.

And what an amazement—a baffling matter—how the two could feel inherently the same while repulsed by how different their opinions were.

That of love and hate—

They were simple four-lettered words without unneeded complexity. When defined, they held complexity while they were seemingly simple. Yet, Izaya and Shizuo hilariously misspelled them and drew twisted definitions from a cesspit of wasted words.

To Izaya, love was a concept of 'intrigue'—anyone drawn to the eye amongst ordinary individuals and lackluster swaths of humanity, stood out in a most spectacular way; in every way that he could hope for. An anomaly that begged for attention with potential woven into their make-up.

Which, put a name to the concept and it would be Shizuo.

It was obvious what caught Shinra’s eye way back when Shizuo was half of what he became. In fact it was impossible not to hear beastly bellows echo across the schoolyard and not notice the source; just for most it was easy to forget that call from the wild was abnormal after its prevalence. Not him, though.

Izaya found interest in the unyielding being—yet the very same obsession forewarned that nothing would ever compare to that pinnacle creature should he foster that talent. And in return, Shizuo would pale and grey the obsessive man’s world around him.

...to which Izaya hated that threat against the unique quality of his people.

Now to Shizuo, love was a concept of ‘tolerance’—anyone who took the form of his idealistic myth. Who could forgive his despised wrath; accept him, validate him, and pick him back up from his fall from hope.

Thus, the concept would be named Izaya.

Though he didn’t understand how Shinra could see that slimy smile and feel anything but repulsion. Nor did it make sense that a performing parasitic prat with an act of condescending applause could be taken as anything other than a bad thing. Grossly, Izaya was the wrong person for Shizuo’s ideals to transpose onto, an abhorrent misuse of the solo blessing he was given. The asshole who would drench his foreseeable future in red.

...to which Shizuo /hated that threat against his desired peace.

Enmity was born. Built from dubiously named love and hate into a roaring fire.

Bile rising, infection spreading, and fever inducing—that was their dynamic, an incurable disease.

A curse read from a plagued book left open by the will of others, in dismal hope that the spell could be corrected.

Closed, the book might have opened up their awareness to an urban forest a blaze; it could have dragged the two out of their narrowed focus upon the rotting roots of their opposing tree and prevented the demise of fertile stomping grounds.

It could have spared love and hate the shame of being attributed to—and used for abuse, or preserve the dignity of whom felt true to those feelings.

But what might have been and could have been was naught. It was impossible.

Would it have been better, should the pages have been bound from the beginning?

No—bluntly, their book should have been closed before it even existed; left unwritten and without need for riddance.

...better off without the need for erassure mid catrostophy—without cold intervention—and finalty from an author ashamed.

—

AN: A canon leaning, creative fiction based analysis of the destructive relationship between these two messed up individuals. Whoopwhoop!

#orihara izaya #heiwajima shizuo #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #durarara #durarara!!#durarara fanfic #durarara fanfiction #drrr #drrr!!#gen fic #fanfic #fanfiction #kishitani shinra #izaya & shizuo #demytasse fanfiction #demytasse

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demytasse · 5 years

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[Shinzaya/Izashin] Longing

—

"It's not often, more of an occasional thing, but sometimes it feels like I should still be pathetically longing for you."

It'd been silent—laying in the dark—but a sudden muse flooded the room better than the dampened moonlight obstructed by askew curtains. Which given the position of the luminescent rock, Izaya probably should've winked himself to sleep a few steps earlier in its rotation, but he hadn't tried to force it.

"Mmm, well that's understandable."

Shinra, on the other hand, had either been lying awake the whole time or lying to Izaya that he'd been asleep—his voice clear and coherent spoke of the former. Either way Izaya would never find out as Shinra would never tell, which hardly mattered now that they were in tandem.

"Really. You're not going to question what that means? You're going to take it at face value, even though it could be an insult?"

"I know what you mean," Shinra chuckled knowingly. "I made you long for me for such a long time that the emotion became a habit of sorts."

"Ah yes, the habit I should have quit. Could've saved me the agony."

"Oh woe, the agony of love! An unfortunate Izaya, lost in the throes of love for his fortunate partner!"

"Thus proving my previous comment."

Izaya's hollow smile was lit up by a thin stream which peeked around the curtains; his arms wrapped behind his head, eyes focused on the blank ceiling. It was a laughing matter, his retired pining as the joke; but the self-deprecation still bothered him with dug up hopelessness.

Though there was Shinra, a jokester at his side to keep him grounded with strategic mockery.

In the middle of his appropriate response time, Shinra eyed the blurry edges of his partner completely based on memory, his removed lenses rendered his sight useless.

"Though with pain comes a silver lining." His finger traced the blind path he'd determined of Izaya's exposed side.

The victim held back laughter with a huff, "do tell."

"Well you see, now you can find new ways to humour your old habit."

"This should be a hoot…"

"For instance, you can long for me every time we're apart; like you can't live long without me. In wait of our return to each other, long for me as if the time we're separate is far too long to bear—in the same way you had, long before we were bonded by vow. Just like I long for yo—"

"Somewhere along the line you need to learn how to shut your mouth. I got sentimental and what I got in return is your abuse of the word that, semantically, represented my sentiment."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Useless spew that you think is romantic?"

"No, no. You got what you wanted—me."

Izaya couldn't help but appreciate the trap set up for him. Hardly perfect, the other man, he was still correct. Any bit of insufferable babble Shinra reeled was part of the full product—what Izaya had wanted—what he got. Eventually.

"You know, somethings are better left unsaid. I don't need to be called on my honesty in a way that makes me regret it. Go to sleep."

"Hey~ you were the one who woke me up to essentially say that you love me." Shadow covered his batted eyes, still it was known how fluttery he was over what statement he'd exaggerated.

"And with that, you can rest in peace."

Izaya threw the covers over Shinra's head in mock suffocation; which beneath, a muffled voice spoke through the duvet.

"Mmhmm. Most certainly I can die happy, Izaya."

And perhaps like Izaya had claimed, some things were better left unsaid—thus his longing to meet in the afterlife remained a secret Shinra already knew.

—

AN: this is the tackiest gd thing. ('∇' ;)ゞ

#shinzaya #izashin #kishitani shinra #orihara izaya #shinra kishitani #izaya orihara #durarara fanfiction #durarara!!#durarara #fanfiction #demytasse fanfics #demytasse fanfiction #shinra x izaya #izaya x shinra #dumb drabbles are my thing i guess #woo ヾ(`ヘ��)ﾉﾞ

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demytasse · 5 years

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I had a Shinzaya dream last night. They were a bit younger and had their school uniforms but were dormmates for college and Izaya was being like, a grumpy-pouty buttface but Shinra was being all slick and cool. He was coming onto Izaya! Including literally o0 I just wish I could remember what they said.

Sooo this needed to be written out, ahaha. Though, I took some creative liberties.

— “Just because we’re studying at Rajin University doesn’t mean you have to wear your old high school uniform, Izaya...not as though you joined the rest of the class in their blues.”

Izaya took his eyes off himself in the mirror—stopped adjusting the hang of his old worn-in jacket. He didn’t bother to turn around, just glanced over his shoulder at his roommate in the background of his reflection. “You know people often talk about the kook in the labcoat absentmindedly wandering the halls. Who are you to judge?” “Do they? I only ever hear stray greetings of ‘professor’ this and ‘professor’ that.”

Shinra watched Izaya obsess over wrinkles that didn’t want to hand-press flat.

“Which might actually have more to do with the accidental social experiment I hosted on the first day. Apparently, people found it peculiar that I sat amongst my fellow students instead pacing in front of the class as a teacher.” “Ah, I suppose the rumour is true then.”

“Oh dear, do I have even more of a reputation?” “Considering the Sociology professor got terminated for ‘hiring a guest lecturer’ without consulting the board of directors… Yes, the word spread fast.” “He did show up late. As in, not at all.” Shinra raised his finger to make a point; reutilised it to press his glasses back into place. “It’s not like I wouldn’t have done the same.”Izaya shook his head, puffed a laugh as he broke the pow-wow with his doppelganger—took up his bag to complete the highschooler look. “Right, so it’s because of a social experiment that made you don your uniform? Or are you trying to bring back memories of our glory days? If so it’s working. I’m half expecting Shizuo to break down our door while you’re in class and literally shake your whereabouts from me.”“There’s reasonable doubt that he wouldn’t randomly sniff me out for something I didn’t do.” “It’s a reasonable assumption that you actually did something that would warrant his rage.”

“A fair assumption, indeed.” He gave Shinra his best pity with a sarcastic gleam of his teeth and a casual salute. “Well, good luck with your paranoia!” “Wait, you’re just going to skip out of here without answering my curiousity?” He pouted in jest.

“If you would rather me prance out of here than saunter I can adjust my exit for your viewing pleasure. That aside, figure out my reason yourself, professor.” “Yeah, yeah, I’ll puzzle it out later; but in the meantime, I’ll take you up on your offer. I wouldn’t mind a flirtatious show of either style to ease my worried mind!” Shinra chirped; flushed with baited excitement.

At that Izaya opted for an unattractive slouch.

—

Hours later, closer to the dinner rush than lunch, Izaya stopped at his dormitory knowing that Shinra wouldn’t have left for food.

Still, he expected the door to meet the deadbolt as a sad attempt to keep a human tank from infiltrating; but was shocked to find it unlocked. Further, a surprise was being met at the entrance as if Shinra was on his way out.

Not quite. He looked too prepared for a night in, necktie loosened like a dressed-down professional—sultry like a professor who waited for his student to arrive after hours.

“I see, so this is what you decided to make of my outfit?” Izaya dropped his bag at his feet—wherever it didn’t matter.

“Of course! You teased me with one of my favourite kinks, Izaya.”

“You have a kink for everything. It wouldn’t matter what I wore, you would still falsely read my intent.”

“Give me some credit,” he traced Izaya’s jawline with a light touch to prompt him further into the room, a pep in his heels. “I know your tells of seduction. Don’t think your teacher needs to be schooled.” “Wow...even if I was coming onto you I would take it back with that example of elementary school creative writing. Your metaphors aren’t as clever as you want to believe they are, Kishitani-sensei, ahaha.” “Aw, I thought you would appreciate some variety, considering we’ve already engaged in private biology lessons, some form of extracurricular sport that involves both cardio and endurance.”

With a tugged tie, Shinra was lead by Izaya through a quarter-turn of their positions; so the teacher took ownership of their footing while he continued his thought.

“Hmm, I’m sure you’re certified in First Aid at this point, though your CPR needs a tad more practice.” Izaya rolled his eyes, “I assume you’re going to teach me the proper technique? First-hand demonstration?”

He slipped the glasses from Shinra’s sight—slid them across the desk with only a slight flick of his wrist in consideration of the time he got reprimanded for breaking them. Though he took the brunt of harm as Shinra pressed his chest and backed him to fall on the bed. “Are you asking me to take your breath away so I can resuscitate you? You’re more masochistic than I thought.” And Izaya actually had to gather his knocked breath back into his lungs, “most doctors don’t injure their patients just so they can fix them up.”

In loom above Izaya, Shinra half-innocently smiled, but mostly wore a demeanour that missed adherence of academia law; a gaze as heavy as his insinuated teacher-student deviance.

“Haven’t you heard, Orihara-kun?” He nipped at his acting pupil’s lip, “I’m just a lecturer in sociology.”

—

AN: This was the cheesiest shit I have ever written for shinzaya... I don’t know if I should thank you for the unintentional prompt or not; but thank you. Hahaha.

#anon ask response #shinzaya #izashin #kishitani shinra #orihara izaya #shinra kishitani #izaya orihara #durarara #durarara!!#durarara rare pair #durarara fanfic #shinra x izaya #izaya x shinra #drrr #drrr!!#demytasse fanfics #demytasse fanfiction #despite the cheese i loved writing this lololol

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demytasse · 5 years

Text

[Shinra & Izaya/Izashin] Shouldered Responsibility

This is more of a friendship fic, but there are hints of izashin if you wish to see it, whiiich I kind of do despite my purpose for the fic.

—

There was this one time that Izaya had to patch Shinra up for a change...

...rather, that wasn't true. There was this second-time Izaya had to patch Shinra up, and luckily the incident was far less fatal and merely bled minutes from their lunch break.

It was in highschool, years past the middle school incident; all due to unfortunate timing — in circumstance of Shizuo's wrath, Izaya's mockery, and Shinra's stage left entrance onto the rooftop. Sometimes that's all it takes to become the victim of an airborne pole ripped from its chainlink. Though, it was better to describe the weaponised school property as a blunt javelin, the end cap rounded and smooth, the only bit of fortune that could be taken from the happenstance. And it was Shizuo that played the role of misfortune, with the extra amount of umph he thrust into his windup, furthermore into the lance, all the while Shinra struggled with doubled blindsight, and a complete lack of foresight.

"Gack!"

The collision was quick, but from Izaya’s point of view, the comedy of errors stretched out the ridiculous scene of Shinra's flailed limbs. It was the kind of scene that initially prompted laughter, but upon notice of the aftermath —well— it was hard to feel guilty for the momentous laughter that continued.

Regardless, Izaya managed a whistle. "Wow, Shizu-chan. What a class act you are; attacking your only friend, if we can call him that."

"Who's fault is it now? You're the one who didn't take the attack like you were supposed to!"

"That logic makes no sense. Did you want me to direct the pole towards me psychically? Maybe you should’ve aimed better."

During their bicker, Shinra was pinned to the ground. Not by the pole, mind you — that rolled away after a raucous clang, which none of the other students took notice of. He was just flat on his back, pinned by gravity; forced to stare at the sky and tufts of cloud through blurred vision.

"You guys…" Shinra sighed.

"My aim ain't the problem, louse."

"Really…"

"It's that you exist."

"Mmm,” Izaya nodded, “I'll be sure to pass that blame onto my mother."

"What? Hu??" Shizuo trudged forward, stepped over the human barrier in his path.

As he did, Shinra snatched his glasses just in time and braced for an impact that he narrowly avoided. "...guys...could I possibly have a minute of your time?"

He was ignored.

"You mocked my parents for bringing me into this world, didn't you?"

"How does that make sense!?"

"Exactly. Welcome to your logic, Shizu-chan."

Izaya shrugged, shook his head as he stepped backward and to the side, continued to evade Shizuo as he approached. Though he kept watch of the gaping hole in the fence that he was being forced to reach, much quicker than comfortable.

But just as his heel teetered on the edge, Shizuo stole him from backward descent by way of his shirt collar.

"Stop sayin’ things like that when you spew more nonsense than sense, Izaya!"

"Likewise—"

"Hey idiots!"

They jolted. Surprisingly that's what stopped the riled teens —the aggressor and the antagonist— and got them to look at their neglected friend as if the diss was an acceptable name to be addressed by.

"I'm going to need my shoulder popped back into joint." He smiled through a cringe, though proud of his sturdiness while he sat up. Only a bit of sadism motivated the broadening of his beam.

"Uh, I guess it's my duty…” Shizuo scratched his head while he let Izaya scramble back onto the rooftop. “It's my fault."

"He finally admits it."

Fight or flight kicked Shinra to his feet without difficulty, as he knew Izaya's snarky comment wouldn't end well; especially for him if Shizuo administered the fix. "A-ah!! No, no, no, Shizuo! I would rather keep my arm attached to my body!"

"What he means to say, brute, is that he trusts me more."

Shinra nipped the comment before it went further, "Izaya, we're going to have some words later. After you fix me up!"

—

"I'm surprised you can't do this yourself."

Izaya furrowed in concentration. He felt awkward as Shinra started to remove his blazer in order to make the procedure easier. Whether or not his nerves were built from guilt, there was more to it; there was a level of trust that someone had to put in another to allow them to help in a seemingly violent way. Rather literally, it aided hurt with pain, thus required responsibility to not botch it and cause another injury. So he questioned if he was the best man for the job.

They weren’t in a private setting, merely off to the side of their peers, but in the shadow of a corner often neglected. The intimacy was akin to past clubroom hangouts that Izaya and Shinra had grown stranger to; so it was nostalgic in that regard.

"Oh, I can." Shinra shrugged, took a sharp breath when he felt resistance.

"So, why don't you?"

Uniform sleeves were rolled to Izaya’s elbows, while his arms juggled the air to find the correct approach — specifically his hand placement. Shinra looked upon with humour, proud that he had aptitude over his usually multi-talented friend; but mostly he saw Izaya’s uncharacteristic fluster endearing just the same as awkward.

"One, I don't particularly like doing it myself. Two, you owe — wait, that’s wrong.”

Shinra startled Izaya when he took his hand in haste; went on to press his palm inches above his own heart, splayed fingers to help stabilise. ”You want to lead with your dominant hand and utilise the sturdiness of your palm to control your force. One hardy fell swoop is all it takes!”

"...oh." Izaya looked bashful.

"I trust that you can manage to place your other hand my back, am I right? It's a bit hard for me to help you there."

“I'm not sure if I can handle that, doctor." He rolled his eyes, while Shinra chuckled.

To the casual observer, it looked romantic; riddled with the connotation of something else. In actuality, it represented companionship more than consensual exchange.

“Ahem!" Shinra cleared the air. ”Anyhoo, there was a second reason that I asked you.”

“...this should be interesting.”

“You owe me one, what, for all those free patch-ups I’ve given you—ACK!”

The deep pop that sounded was followed by a series of mumbled ‘ow’s.

“Izaya, don’t you think you could warn me?”

“Ohoho~ don’t you owe me for all those times you didn’t warn me, Shinra.” A blip of tongue teased. “Fair, fair.” He massaged his shoulder. “I guess that means our mutual debt is paid off.”

Izaya’s immature gesture corrected itself, faltered to nod in agreeance. He looked disappointed by the answer. Like it was all a transaction, not that he was trusted.

"Ahh, we could say that…"

Shinra noticed, blinked and perked his brows; shocked that his joke was taken literally. Izaya, however, didn’t notice that; simply shook the numbness from his legs while he braced himself stand.

"But, honestly…”

They paused, stilted and static.

“...do I need an excuse to spend time with my friend?"

Izaya huffed, “you're certainly using one."

"But it's a good one." Shinra held up a pointed finger.

The off-duty chiropractor patted his patient’s fixed shoulder with a feigned smile —that is, pretended that it was forced. Shinra didn’t wince that time, kind of enjoyed the sharp twang within a bruise that began to form.

“Was it worth it, though?”

“Mmm, I would think so. I know you feel the same.”

“Keep telling yourself that you know me as well as you brag. Maybe one day I’ll believe it.” And he turned his shoulder without an intended chill. The sentiment from their afternoon wouldn’t allow any attitude he tried for.

“Okay, I will.”

—

So there was that one time that Izaya had to patch Shinra up for a change...or second, as it were. It didn’t turn into a third or a fourth onward, but it wasn’t that the last time assured it wouldn’t happen. It just didn’t.

Still, Shinra kept to his promise; pestered Izaya with ‘I know you’ and ‘I told you so’ as often as the met up over the years.

“They say if there’s a way for one’s will, then their word will hold its weight,” Shinra smiled wistfully, “yet sometimes will is just a word in wait of the way.”

“What a pretentious way to butcher an idiom, Shinra, for your own will...if you will.”

“Well, Izaya, if there’s a way, then I will.”

—

AN: I think my attempt to butcher an idiom in a way that makes sense was...butchered. Oh well. xD

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demytasse · 5 years

Photo

You’ve got me tangled in your fate, strangled by its string. A mess you made of me, as I have messed with you.

I’ve got you twisted in my fate, hung up by its string A noose I tied for you, as you are bound to me.

Is it my fault we don’t work, — is it your fault that we do? We work yet run away, yet away we never stay.

Is it your fault we don’t agree, — is it my fault that we do? We agree to disagree, but disagree that we agree.

We got so wrapped up in our fate, — tethered and we can’t leave. A web was spun to bind us, as if we’d try to flee.

Though is it true that we inevitably deserve to be, forever stuck between hate and meant to be?

I wrote a poem that vaguely had a shizaya feel to it…so I rolled with it…then continued to make it artsy. ¯\_(uwu;)_/¯ (tumblr fcked with the resolution; click it to see it clearer)

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demytasse · 5 years

Text

[Shinzaya] Hold Me Tight (Or Don’t) — Ch 3

Previous Chapters: Chapter 2 | All Chapters

—

Morning rituals were only good for their reliability—not their interest. They might conform with the trends of time; transform into something novel with new means to set the mould, but they always wound up a formulaic bore and predictable as the people who accessorised the unremarkable event. They were a mere bringer of happenstance.

Which Izaya's present gift from his trusty schedule came in the form of his nag of a friend who melded with the shadow on his left and sought to initiate any kind of annoyance. At the moment it was Shinra's hope to converse with an added twine of their dominant fingers as they walked the halls. The contact wasn’t needed, the touch wouldn’t be sincere, and their frozen palms needn't chill the both of them.

His attempts didn’t work, though he did try—and kept on—despite how Izaya shooed them away.

Izaya knew the conversation Shinra insisted would be a nuisance by default, but a day later in retrospect he’d claim that he prophesied exactly how chaotic their morning would turn, and precisely knew that detrimental intel would be gained as a result.

And if he told a soul, he’d explain how the giveaway was the digging grip around his bicep that demanded Shinra be paid attention—a tad different than the normal ritual.

“Come on, Izaya, listen! I have a brilliant scenario for club today!" “Can I stop you there?” “Just hear me out.” Izaya side-eyed his friend. “It actually involves studying, you know.” “That doesn’t instil me with confidence.”

“If you let me talk you’ll see that it’ll accomplish the opposite.”

“Ah, even more so I’m skeptical.”

Shinra huffed. It was fake.

Though Izaya could tell how patient Shinra tried to be as to not ruin what he’d undoubtedly planned in depth. Which meant he wouldn’t let up no matter how long the reveal was delayed or sidetracked—ignored with little success.

“Do I have the floor now?”

Izaya sighed, rubbed at tired eyes; revolved his other hand to indicate that Shinra should just get on with it.

“Splendid!”

He cleared his throat enthusiastically. “So like I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m aware of your proclivity to lust over my form while we change in the locker room.” “Shinra, you’ve never mentioned that,” he rolled his eyes upon instinct.

“I’ve never explained how obvious your voyeuristic tendencies are?”

“Perhaps you’re confusing me for you since it seems you’re the one paying explicit attention.”

“Well it doesn’t matter, you won’t have to rely on those stray glances and pitiably gazes after today.”

“Enlighten me, vice club president, what’s this supposed bullet on our agenda?”

Unconsciously they’d trekked an optimal route that avoided extra eyes and additional foot traffic. Still, Izaya looked about to make sure no one followed close enough to make a rumour of whatever nonsense Shina was about to explain.

“Well since you’re finally amenable I’ll cut to the chase. I've come up with a sort of team bonding exercise, a warm-up if you will, to ease ourselves into the ceremonious sex life we’ve yet to start. Thus, I propose that we entertain our teenage libidos with a rousing yet sensual strip teas—”

His perverse fantasy was cut with a solid body-check.

"Shinra, for the love of whatever god... I want none of what I so kindly prevented you from further revealing."

"You mean our bodies or the truth?"

Izaya asked deadpan, "wait...the truth?"

"Yes! Revealing the truth.”

"Which is…?"

"That you want me!"

"Rather blunt, even for you."

Shinra shrugged, "as if you don't know my spiel."

"Ah, so I do. In that case, I'll skip my own to save me the trouble."

Startled—Izaya’s hand was taken into Shinra’s grasp who sparkled in spirit.

"I was right then."

"Not even in the slightest!" He yanked his hand back, scowled while he rubbed the audacity off his skin, “don’t colour my response with your confirmation bias.”

"You're so cruel, Izaya!" Each word was whined in woe.

Stray students that Izaya feared would show up covered their ears while they searched for whom to grumble at, but only found a chilling threat. The few of them dispersed and abandoned the duo.

"Indeed, I am."

"At this rate, I'll grow old and undesirable before anything can happen."

"That's not my problem."

"Well I insist that you make it your problem! That way I can fix it just like I tend to your ailments and injuries. I won't be made a defeatist just because you adamantly deny the fact that you want me to touch you up—in more than one way."

A chuckle hung up Izaya.

"And what a touchy subject that you fail to drop. You know that I can turn you into the officials for your sexual advances and disrespect of my wishes at any time. Wouldn’t that solve my problems just as well?”

Izaya cocked his smirk and crossed his arms; expectant of Shinra’s surrender going without a hitch. In lieu of that, another form of hitch formed in Shinra’s breath as he remembered the time when Shizuo was turned-in for a dumb reason.

Still, his rebuttal was found after a shiver, hitched a ride from the relief, and realigned their pace.

"Come on now, Izaya, you know we both ignore morality; at the very least I do and admit it. So rest assured, I'll hit you up again with the idea later on."

"Oh, I hardly doubt that you will, my dear friend."

Shinra hummed—pat Izaya on the shoulder with a self-confident smile.

"Okay!"

His peculiar response ended their conversation on an awkward note, it really didn't go along with what Izaya said prior and if that weren't normal he would have taken offence that he wasn’t listened to.

Thus it was thrown aside in favour of continuing their circuit of identical corners and walkways; intentionally without a care of how close it was until homeroom.

Though the energy from before died down quickly before they started down a new avenue of discussion.

“But to be honest, I've thought about us more."

Curious of what necessitated a 'but' precursor and a drop in his tone—a mention of ‘us’—Izaya flipped attention towards his pensive friend. Whom was overly so and a little too unsure of himself.

"We're friends...right?”

Izaya tripped over his footing as well his thoughts.

“Dubiously so, but here we are."

He swatted his...dubious friend as if the tease would kill the heavy air; out of habit Shinra didn’t flinch nor release the somber tilt from his lip.

"Yeah...so,” he hesitated, “doesn't that mean you won't connect unnecessary feelings to us having sex?"

The mood dissolved into sickness as Izaya listened to the full reel.

“That's a boon, right?”

“A boon, hmm?'

"Right. I mean, it should be…" he trailed off.

"I suppose to you that’s all I am—” Izaya frowned, “rather, that’s what I am to you; a tool for your selfish whims."

Shinra readjusted the strap on his bag, further fidgeted to correct an uncomfortable hang that persisted its agitation.

“Mmm, seems you remember what this whole plan is for: to prevent me from shamefully disappointing Celty, correct?"

Is he questioning me with what he’s spouted to me?

"Tch, how could I forget the disgusting mental image of you two going at it when you keep reminding me of it?"

It was strained, but Shinra managed to slip into the reminiscent smile he wore whenever his love interest was brought up.

"How could you suggest that? Anything that involves Celty is purely beautiful. Which in respect of my angel I want to remain pure for her, despite my obviously tainted thoughts."

Once again he held some restraint and it seemed unbeknownst to the teen himself like he half-mindedly kept to an abused script rather than ad-libbing. Which Izaya decided to lean into the sudden turn as punishment or to defend his own feelings—both really.

"You do realise your logic makes no sense? Having sex strips you of your virginity."

"Naturally. Which is the exact reason that I’m purely opting for male relations, it's not quite the same as making love with a woman, but similar enough setups and motions. Therefore it keeps me a virgin in the important way.

"Although, if I’m going after an older woman, that is quite the perversion. Un-pure, in fact. Oh. Oh no… Will that tamper with Celty's purity if she goes after me: a man centuries younger than herself…?”

His prior confliction seemed forgotten for a moment as he fell into his practised character. “Get to your point, pervert.”

"Err, right… perhaps you know this, but it's said that only fools will rush haphazardly into things without regard. Which, one and the same, I’m that fool whom the wise men speak of; hopelessly in love and blinded by it. Where do you think that puts me, Izaya? I’m at the precipice of doing whatever it takes to fulfil my goal.”

To this he performed a hard pause and stared beyond Izaya’s sight into his mind, both conscious and unconscious; it unnerved him, made him sweat.

“I’m not the only one you could use. There are heartless bastards who are just as absent of a mind. Easier to puppeteer.”

“I don’t particularly have a deathwish, I’d rather mess around with you than wrestle with a dimwit beast like Shizuo.”

Shinra flinched in preparation of being mauled by violent repercussion as if said beast was actually present. If it was a joke to lighten both their moods it went ignored.

While his friend comedically struggled with traumatic memories, Izaya explicitly worried about himself. How the previous implication deemed their friendly get-togethers more as a requirement of acquaintances to fulfil a specific purpose.

Izaya watched Shinra emote through a summoned monologue while stuck on mute. His mouth flapped silently, looked playful a few separate times while he nudged Izaya with a wry wink. His bright smile would immediately fall whenever he didn’t get a response before he'd continue—defeated.

Whatever he rambled was in vain.

Though the absent audio made Izaya's internal voice scream.

Somewhere within him nagged a question of if he’d actually made up his mind—if he really wanted none of the sexual intimacy that Shinra kept offering, with or without either of them smitten. He didn’t and he wasn’t, he really wanted none of that baggage.

Yet there was tension, and it’d been eating away at his brain; the swirls of muscle that had become a victim of jealousy, a parasite that started to take over his rationale, motor skills, and more.

"...plus he's not as much my type aesthetically unlike y—"

Shinra turned mute for real as he went stiff —was killed on the spot, stood a corpse in rigour mortis.

At the changed demeanour Izaya scrunched his features to a focal point, that is until he looked down the hall. It appeared that the devil was summoned by his repeated mention—Shizuo, the dolt who'd surely wreck both of their mornings.

Moderately, Shinra began to shake. "Oh god, he heard me."

Given the grim aura that surrounded Shizuo, Izaya gathered that he was one agitation away from ornery, which bode terribly.

Izaya masked his nerves with a sigh, "Shinra that's improbable. Maybe not impossible, considering his inhuman hearing, but—"

"The hell did you manipulative bastards do?!"

As if to prove the hypothesis, Shizuo locked sight on them, his ornery scowl confirmed; with a chip on his shoulder, a prominent rip on his jacket’s shoulder.

Decidedly he must have read their racked nerves as damnation of some ploy that hadn’t been actioned, or maybe it had, Izaya wasn’t sure if Shinra had set up something fishy.

"Surprising as it is for your amateur reasoning, Detective Gumshoe, we did nothing."

Shizuo looked between Izaya and Shinra in doubt and looped through his scrutiny again. Oddly enough he settled shifty eyes on the other teen though targeted both of them—just to be unfair.

"Eep!!" Shinra weaved a hyperbolic squeal into his legitimate reason to falter.

Though there wasn’t an excuse for his dart around Izaya to create a safe base out of him, both slim and inefficient. Especially there wasn’t a good reason for Shinra to grasp onto his cover, nor was there to hold his waist fake means to stabilise himself before he wrapped them around front. It was too intimate a hold for the hostile setting, but the teen kept to his whim.

Ah...perhaps this was planned...

Shinra perched his chin on Izaya's shoulder to keep watch of their enemy.

"Prove I'm innocent, Izaya!"

"Like hell he's innocent!" Shizuo yelled.

In one sense Shinra couldn’t be proven guilty, but he wasn’t innocent. He took advantage of Izaya’s skyrocketed endorphins as Shizuo trudged closer—he pilfered them, used them. Subtly nuzzled a spot behind his ear; continued his act, but seemed flustered as his breath was shallow from underlined fear, yet focused.

It was that manipulative sway Izaya swore he liked, but now he felt betrayed by his propensity to love anything off-kilter.

Anger ran up his spine and ended in a shudder around the spot Shinra laid his head. His pulse raced furthermore as a palm rolled discreetly under his jacket and flattened upon his heart to monitor its speed.

Shinra spoke. It was loud enough to combat the hallway chatter—clearly the beast as well—but went unheard by anyone other than his victim.

“Interesting, fear really does bring you excitement. I should’ve known...”

Shinra hummed uncharacteristically pleased for scientific discovery. That or Izaya's preference had grown askew over time and made a calculated tone of a scientist attractive, repulsive given the circumstances. Though that preference could possibly be tied to his personal inspector who tested his fortitude against prior jealousy.

For a second he swore he felt their pulse sync up with the heartbeat against his back. Enough to count for evidence that maybe… Shinra toyed with both their feelings.

Regardless of what he had done to invoke Shizuo's wrath as a trap, Izaya felt he was made a lab rat, a joke.

As Shizuo swiftly decreased the space between them, he turned against his friend.

Two can play this game, asshole.

Within the last moment, Izaya overlapped their hands in tender opposition of the aggressive atmosphere, which shocked Shinra. Izaya used the opportunity to pry the leech from his back and shoved him into the battlefield.

"W-woah!"

Shinra spun and tripped, and by the look of it, his fear shot up to one-hundred percent genuine.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya smirked, "have at him."

"Seriously?!" Shinra staggered off to evade—sounded a hair amused, but looked terrified as Shizuo picked up speed.

"Don't start acting like that damn bastard, Shiiinrrraaa!"

In the distance, they were now a pair of ants.

Left on the sidelines, Izaya mused.

"You know…”

His hands formed a frame out in front of him with an eye closed for better focus.

“I don't see how anyone could get tired of this show like they do with Shizu-chan and me.”

He clicked a fake shutter, “they must have no appreciation for good humour." Izaya wished he had an actual camera to photograph his revenge—for precious school memories soon to end, not to mention good blackmail. In spite of that, he hoped Shinra would forget the discovery he made in the heat of the moment. Anything more discovered of him in that fashion would be worse than a public downfall, it would be a private tragedy. And really, it wasn’t just that he may get a bit…excited in dangerous situations; honestly, that should’ve been obvious and he knew Shinra knew that. It was probably an excuse for his shitty friend to associate sexual excitement with himself. It was a flimsy experiment with failed results, but only because Izaya already got that sort of reaction when it involved Shinra.

As his hands slid from the air into his pockets he willed his rampant pulse to normalise—much to his dismay, it didn't budge.

“My, what a pickle he’s stuck me in.”

His mood soured just like vinegar and salt, with the purpose of the sexual endeavour fresh on his mind. What his fool reminded him of—rather not his, but it was easier to say and pleasant ring.

Shinra played with his sweet spots and weaknesses; he did it too well like he paid unnecessary attention to someone who was just a target for his ploy. That in and of itself was trouble.

Izaya skipped class and club alike—he lacked the energy to struggle through their time together alone. That and he couldn't stop focussing on the undeterminable expression Shinra wore while they exchanged souls…

“...I’m at the precipice of doing whatever it takes to fulfil my goal…”

Correct him if that didn’t feel like a hint for him to pick up.

—

AN: What a slog writing this has been, ahaha...

#shinzaya #izashin #kishitani shinra #orihara izaya #shinra kishitani #izaya orihara #durarara!!#durarara #durarara rare pair #durarara fanfiction #drrr!!#drrr #shinra x izaya #izaya x shinra #fanfic #fanfiction #demytasse fanfiction #shinzaya hold me tight or don't

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demytasse · 5 years

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[Shinzaya] Hold Me Tight (Or Don’t) — Ch 1

Summary: Shinra turns to Izaya in order to gain sexual proficiency, what he’ll need for his future with Celty. Yet ambiguity of feelings could destroy his plans and friendship alike—though it might be within their best interests that their companionship changes routes. Rating: PG (Ch 1); PG13 (future) Previous Chapters: Prologue | All Chapters

—

As their middle school days had met an end, so had their lonely club—and when high school term began, so did their creep towards graduation. Which put the teens smack dab in the middle of an upcoming end; adulthood approached too soon for any last-minute bouts of immaturity, but there was still some wiggle room.

Regardless, Izaya adhered to his method of how to properly ease himself into the life of expected status quo. To him, it made sense to keep to his own priorities, apart from peers and friends alike; a somewhat lonesome approach but matched what was to come. Which Shinra continued right on Izaya heels—hypothetically, with a parallel plan rather than a literal clip at the back of hallway shoes sometime in the past.

It spoke of how worn-in their friendship was, how similar they were, and how seamless their tried and true formula worked. It counter-spun from what outsiders thought was normal for tight-knit friends, yet to them it wasn't counterintuitive. That is if their schoolmates actually regarded them a second time after their first day introductions.

However, it seemed true—their present interaction did mimic a retired relationship as it barely went beyond hallway greetings throughout the week and bumped shoulders as they entered or exited class. Though it would be an insult to dub Izaya and Shinra distant cohorts. Rather, the self-absorbed beings fell into sync whenever they were compelled to share ideas and observational data, like hobbyist social scientists that exchanged notes when their schedules aligned.

Whether for brief moments or the length of the lunch period, they'd continue from the top of their previous scene—delivered improvisational lines over scripted small talk, and split ways just as casual. It was a joke that judgemental classmates thought the two barely clicked when those who believed the farce were generally hard-pressed for quality chit-chat themselves.

In other words, Izaya and Shinra were no actors—just odd friends.

—

A classroom of thirty was left desolate—desks abandoned and recently straightened by the student janitorial crew. Essentially everyone had left the premises. Yet the corral of empty chairs wasn’t a complete set, only a majority, as two of them were occupied somewhere in the middle and off to the side, with a particular silence to keep them company. It wasn’t a normal stasis when people were still present, but Izaya was to blame as he pretended to be alone despite the unnerving incorrectness.

Sat backwards directly opposite him was Shinra, pressed into Izaya’s personal space like there was still a crowd—his nose forward and glasses primed. The scene akin to their old interactions with just a hint of intimacy was hardly correct for their current years, but here they were. In wait of whatever afternoon was to follow; and as Shinra had been the one to suggest their rendezvous, he initiated the study session without a hello and spoke a few lines out of order with a topic not yet broached.

“So! I'm looking to gain experience.”

He didn't budge, even though he’d received a cue to distance himself by way of Izaya's exasperated sigh and turn of attention.

“You’re saying you want us to have sex," Izaya watched the other adjust his glasses, "for science."

“Oh good, you caught on quick!” Shinra clapped.

“Don’t mock my intelligence, Shinra. You insinuated it. Heavily, I might add.”

“I know.”

During the time that his peers cleaned around him, Izaya started to browse some gossip garbage that a gaggle of females read in between glances his way. It was grating enough for him to determine why they giggled and squealed; which more or less was the same bother as the trash proclamation which unnerved him now.

“You’re aware I’m male, correct?”

“Huh, I didn’t think sexuality was a concern of yours, Orihara-kun. It always seemed that you were open to whatever advantageous situation you might be offered. Maybe I was wrong.”

“I meant, Kishitani-kun, for someone looking to please a particular female, sexual experience with a man is hardly beneficial.” His stare steeled. “A human male, especially.”

“Well, any experience is better than none, wouldn’t you think?” Shinra made his prognosis with a finger held high, while Izaya flipped through the pages of what was dubiously his magazine—in search.

“Listen, the girls might claim me ‘effeminate enough to bottom anyone’,” his brow raised, “or ‘non-threatening enough to top specific bottoms’, but my supposed range still doesn’t meet your needs.”

Izaya was bothered, to say the least, that a clique of his classmates studied him in such a shallow fashion, that Shinra wanted him for such a shallow purpose, to which he tossed the bothersome reading material aside in disgust of it all. Though it was lost on Shinra as he chewed Izaya’s statement—tested the added variable against his own with his eyes rolled up to a corner in thought.

“I still think you could fit the role well. A female body double, despite absent physiology."

“And there’s the truth I was looking for. So you're wanting me to roleplay for you?” he mimicked his own beheading much to Shinra's comical dismay.

"Honestly, do you think I'd let you sully my dear Celty’s image with some hack cosplay job? What I meant was that you lack female anatomy and desirables. Like a nice rack of breas—”

Izaya cut him short, “you mean, I couldn’t live up to your dullahan standards?” He twirled his words but spat out the contagion.

“Oh. Well, not really, but you should know that!”

“Aww, what a shame. I really would’ve rocked that form-fitted riding suit she wears.”

A sarcastic gesture was wound up and ready, but Izaya's shrug baulked at the scrutiny made in his favour. He was joking, of course, but now he was worried that the punchline was taken seriously.

"Hmm..."

His friend sized him up; a tailor in consideration of which cut would flatter his curves, what fabric needed to be snipped, and if the garment was more appropriate for the floor—or so it seemed. Selfconscious, Izaya broke into a cold sweat, even more when his pursuant breached their median space, drawn by attraction rather than a scheme.

"Maybe so..."

Shinra smiled—slyly. It was the kind of lilt that would shiver most sexually, and Izaya couldn’t tell if he was one amongst the statistic who’d blush so easily in response, or if he borrowed the reaction from another.

So instead of parsing it out, he opted to correct his settled spine with the support of his chair, his back arched too far to be comfortable. Clearly with no intent to separate himself from Shinra, nor was it due to the side-effects of the trauma he acquired before he was tricked into founding their club. Obviously, it was a cocky cat stretch to prove that he controlled the scene—he didn’t.

“So this proposed 'study session' was all a ruse.”

“Was it?”

“Don't play innocent. You're obviously looking to use me for my body.” Izaya drew a barricade around his chest.

“That’s the gist of it. Having sex, that is.”

“No, usually both parties gain some form of pleasure out of it. At least, that’s the traditional way of things.”

“You say that like you wouldn’t benefit from it.” Shinra persisted, his flirt still in play. “And you say that like you’re sure that I would.” “Of course! The appeal of friendship is more than just like-mindedness, rather it’s underlined with physical attraction as well. I’m sure you have some amount of sexual interest in me, Izaya, even if it’s minuscule.”

“Oho, with that logic the same goes for you.”

“Which I hardly believe would shock you. Might I remind you who came to whom asking for sex?”

“Selfishly.”

“Nonetheless.” He shrugged.

Izaya tried to ignore the pseudo-psychological factoid that Shinra made up to sway him. “I'm going to chalk this up as your worst proclamation since we became...whatever you could call us."

Shinra nodded, "that's fair."

“He admits it...”

“Is there any reason not to?”

Izaya shook his head, “Shinra, you are honest to a flaw.”

“That may be true, but you've always been charmed by my openness, among other things.”

On cue, Shinra increased the way his eyes sheened as if it were possible to control arousal in that fashion. In like, he intensified his flirtatious technique with a lowered tone spoken in a whisper.

"Am I right?"

If anything the distance between them hadn’t changed, but it certainly felt like the temperature stifled from combined body heat. Cowardice glued Izaya in place while his opportunity to escape passed—though unconsciously he knew it was out of curiosity to see how far Shinra would take his strategy; what more he would do after fingers traced up his shoulder to rest at the peak. Which step in his courtship manual followed a heavy gaze and deep breath. Izaya faced a doppelganger, for certain. Shinra was no longer present, he assured himself. In no way would his friend be able to tease like he did. Touch him in a way that wasn't in the least bit awkward, but sensual—prepared to catch him in liplock as much as catch him should the pressure cause Izaya to buckle.

Perhaps Shinra was enough concerned for his well being to plan for multiple outcomes, which assuredly all led to Izaya falling in some way or another. Though it was likely that he acted with his own interests in mind, that his goods wouldn't go damaged. Whichever reason it was moot—the amateur doctor would jump at any opportunity to fix a broken patient if only to foot a favour as the bill.

With a slight squeeze, Shinra reminded him that he'd been slack-jawed for too long. Izaya's pulse beat against his ribs, drummed his throat; the cadence tensed his vocal cords, and his short breath dried his speech.

"Whether I’m charmed remains to be seen…"

The weakened words settled in the air—lost in a staredown, both were dusted with uncertainty. The former was an oddity and the latter came as a shock because wasn’t it Shinra that claimed he operated with platonic tools?

Yet it was Shinra that relented, the genuine curl of his lips diminished and discomfort added to his brows. He read as concerned, disappointed; not particularly hurt, but somewhere in between that and bothered. Izaya wondered if he looked terrified from his friend’s vantage, yet it was hard to determine as the other sighed and pulled back with his palms exposed in surrender.

“Alright.”

That was it—the tension was gone, never existed. Perhaps. Instead, the bag at Shinra's hip was given attention—the quick-switch of demeanour threw Izaya for a loop; the seamless fashion was, in short, enviable. All that he witnessed was how Shinra wavered just a smidgen and let out an extra breath that was indeterminable; his thrown slouch was taken advantage of to slip hair past his ears to keep his nosey neighbour away from a good spy.

He's hiding something...

Nothing else to observe nor ponder, Izaya blinked back to normalcy; the sound of rifled papers harshed his ability to fully relax.

“What were you thinking of studying today?” Shinra’s voice was muffled.

“Honestly, I didn’t plan for anything…”

The shuffling stopped—without a tick Shinra popped back to normal, chipper but fake and cautiously hopeful.

"Well in that case," he presented a pristine textbook, “let’s humour our ourselves with an old favourite!” It was innocent and somewhat pure, the emotion that Shinra exhibited. Simple coercion which Izaya couldn’t hold back the smile which it lured, despite his desire to reserve his candidness.

Izaya shook from a silent chuckle before Shinra joined in with an audible hiccup. The dam of tension let up—lighthearted laughter spilt out. Short, sweet, and sentimental; what they shared eventually calmed, but not before they both loosened up.

“Biology...” Izaya hummed, “how appropriate."

#shinzaya #izashin #kishitani shinra #orihara izaya #shinra kishitani #izaya orihara #durarara #durarara!!#durarara fanfiction #durarara rare pair #shinra x izaya #izaya x shinra #fanfic #fanfiction #demytasse fanfiction #demytasse fanfics #shinzaya hold me tight or don't

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demytasse · 5 years

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[Shinzaya] Hold Me Tight (Or Don’t) — Prologue

Summary: When Shinra’s insistent of gaining sexual proficiency before he will most assuredly need it for his future with Celty, he turns to Izaya, his only option; and it’s not just because Shizuo would be a hilarious death wish. Yet ambiguity of feelings could destroy his plans and friendship, alike. Perhaps it’s within Shinra and Izaya’s best interests that it goes that route...

Rating: G (prologue); PG13 (future)

—

Undoubtedly, Shinra was socially inept. That was, in fact, basic Raijin trivia; such a prevalent tidbit of tribal knowledge that one was an anomaly if they hadn't the fair warning of his particular quirks. So obvious that if such an unfortunate soul existed, the truth was immediately revealed the moment the teen punctuated his first inappropriate sentence.

Though he was quite awkward, Shinra had a certain flair to his character flaw, so if one could tolerate his presence it could be viewed as an endearment. He was as deliberate as a punchline without context — logically blunt, yet cleverly offensive. All the while, his unusual topics were broken by inserted similes and fact corrections which “actually…” seemed like they were used as a means to lord what he knew over others instead of being helpful as claimed; him a college professor, if you will, in lecture of toddlers too immature for their school uniforms.

And to drive any whom he addressed insane, the conversation would start mid-point, like they had dropped eaves, to which he'd expect them to hop into the depth of his established headspace; furthermore keep pace with his long-winded ramble. It was a chore, to put it simply, that no one wanted to perform.

Now, to anyone with a quick wit, Shinra was actually fairly manageable—tolerable above palatable—only desirable for gluttons of a particular kind of self-indulgent obsessor. Which, said deadly sin would be named Izaya. The human enthusiast, the wallflower of his own decision, conveniently filled all the requirements and was quite proud of such talents and broad tastes. Honest to interests, he was especially fond of the curious case that was Shinra and his disliked personality, for he related like the other half of his whole and vice versa.

So it went that the four-eyed narcissist was the only person whom Izaya would tolerate spontaneous chit-chat from. The solo being he’d give his explicit attention to, because he rather enjoyed the babble; thrived upon engaging banter that he was paid for providing Shinra an outlet.

Yes, that meant Izaya came with his own eccentricities, but they gelled so perfectly with Shinra’s that their combo reassured them they weren’t to walk the planet alone with no peer to speak of. Which their similarities may be the exact reason that Shinra would approach Izaya with an abnormal request, on an otherwise normal day, during a normal lunch period. With a coy tug of his sleeve, a prominent clear of his throat, he’d bluntly state his innocuous demand...

"Stick around after class to study with me, will you, Izaya?"

That unremarkable word would mark the beginning of a peculiar tale of two friends. Shinra in lead of Izaya, promptly—proudly—after he’d finally say 'yes' against his initial will. Two idiots side by side would willingly stride straight into the fray of nebulous feelings. To which unwillingly they'd blur the lines of platonic activities and create somewhat of a comedic tragedy—chaos of their own design. Inexplicably, they’d deviate from the confines of planned purpose and beyond the realm of predictability.

—

AN: I had previously written a “prologue” for this fic and posted it too, lol, but it really didn’t mesh, and things got in the way before I could write the bulk of it. So! Have my new and improved beginning to my beloved, and long-neglected fic. ♡ (´▽`ʃƪ)

#shinzaya #izashin #kishitani shinra #orihara izaya #shinra kishitani #izaya orihara #shinra x izaya #izaya x shinra #durarara #durarara!!#durarara rare pair #drrr!!#drrr #fanfic #fanfiction #durarara fanfics #demytasse fanfiction #shinzaya hold me tight or don't

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demytasse · 5 years

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[Shizaya] Happy Birthday Izaya~ ☆

—

Shizuo was the only one who showed up — with a bouquet of flowers nonetheless, handed to him with a ‘fufufu’ and conveniently just outside Izaya's apartment building; coincidentally as he arrived.

Wasn't she one of Kadota's gang? How did she even know that he'd be there, let alone when?

Whatever the answer, he was there and he was more or less happy that he came, even if the pest put up a façade and lived up to his stubbornness.

“My, aren't we romantic?” Sly yet less sinister, Izaya playfully poked at the sentiment.

“Shut up.”

“Now is that any way to talk to me on my birthday?”

Shizuo pulled shock onto his features — his sleeve up to reveal a watch, “is that what today is?”

“Would you have shown up if it were any other day?”

It was a good question; one he struggled to produce an answer that stood on its own without exceptions and conditions. The conundrum left him with a bit tongue and tied up concentration.

And in time Izaya simply shrugged, seemingly expectant of a let down and shifted his eyes from the other's avoidant to examine each flower as though they differed.

"It’s a pity.”

“Huh? What is?”

“If I got these from someone else they might have been prettier. From you, though, they're akin to something like dogweed.”

A furrow at his brow, a knot at his arms, Shizuo reacted to the diss of his illegitimate gift like it was his own, “yeah? Not like anyone else would get you flowers.”

“Technically, I don't think you did either. They're too intentionally picked for their meaning to be one-hundred percent your idea, more so ten and you were just the...courier? Messenger pigeon?”

Plastic crinkled as Izaya pointed his accusation — a swish and flick that he directed at Shizuo, a sprinkle of petals now upon his slippers.

“At any rate they're not from you.”

“Ya think?”

“Often, yes.”

“You know what I meant, brat.”

“Look at you... Softening your insults and nicknames. Never expected you to catch feelings so quick~.”

“Bastard,” he trailed off.

Izaya waited, for what Shizuo wasn't positive; perhaps it was in respect of him continuing onward to deny said feelings. Meanwhile the informant stared at a spot just below his chin, rather his neck, clavicle — some nebulous region that covered more area than his own splayed shirt collar did.

“..you actually learned how to tie the bowtie I got you.”

The comment was pensive, uncharacteristically candid, and Izaya shook his head to dismiss it.

“Actually that remains to be seen, considering it's undone. For all I know you go around town like a drunken groomsman.”

“I don't.”

“Could it be that Tom does it up for you every day? He always seemed snazzy enough to have useless fashion know-how.”

“He does.”

“How...intimate,” Izaya's voice dropped into a dark, territorial register.

“Shut your brain off, Iouse. I meant he knows how and taught me.”

“Hopefully not how to remove it firsthand as well.”

“What did I just say about your annoying imagination?!”

“I'm teasing.”

Clearly he wasn't.

“Whatever. Birthday or not, I'm not stickin’ around if you're in this kinda mood.”

Shizuo didn't remember being that far into the room, but his awkward walk to the exit extended longer than he would have liked. Heels dug rubber into the hardwood, a trail of thumps in his wake — a tense man left behind.

“Stay.”

Izaya wasn't timid — meek wasn’t his proclivity, it was only a card he played when the game necessitated it. All the same, Shizuo could tell his tonal edge was dulled. His vocal cords played the same notes yet were pulled with slack intensity; desperate, but only because the time it'd take for Shizuo to leave grew short.

And so he continued his hesitancy, “the flowers weren't enough.”

Shizuo’s agitation lost to a smile and looked over his shoulder to display it, “so what else do you want?”

“Get creative, Shizu-chan. It's not my duty to come up with something today.”

“How do you always have clever fuckin’ rebuttals?” He shook the style from his hair, removed his glasses — began to work at his shoelaces in a crouch. “I hate it.”

“Yes, well I hate that I have to come up with them.”

"Good. 'Least we agree on something.”

Izaya showered a mess of pollen over Shizuo with the aid of his brandished flowers.

“Maybe tonight we can agree on something more…hmm,” he paused, “positive? Fun?”

Shizuo took hold of the hand he was offered and allowed Izaya to pull him up close and personal.

“If you wish.”

“Ohoho, he's so easily swayed. Happy birthday to me for certain.”

“Yeah, yeah. Happy birthday, Izaya.”

—

AN: I intend to have two more drabbles, shinzaya and izanamie related, buuut they might be late. >>;; Anyway. Cheesy shizaya for now. ('∇' ;)ゞ

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